


In Your Sights

by faege



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faege/pseuds/faege
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Keep him in your sights, son."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Sights

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn_30snapshots.

_“Keep him in your sights, son.”_

John’s hand was steady on Dean’s shoulder, the warm pressure gone the moment John stepped back. Dean’s grip on the shotgun was steady, the butt of the gun pressed firmly into his shoulder. He narrowed one eye to look down the barrel, finger keeping firm pressure on the trigger.

The deer had wandered that morning into the yard of the run-down cabin they were squatting in and John had wasted no time in gathering the boys and sneaking them out the back and around to the woods where they would have a clean shot. Dean was ten and had never shot anything moving on his own before. John had started taking him out as backup on hunts just a few months ago, but never had he stood back to let Dean take the shot—like he was doing now. The thrill of pride and fear of failure buzzed through Dean before he squeezed the trigger.

He could feel Sam flinch as though the shot had gone through his heart instead of the deer’s. John was all praise, wide smile and hard grip on his shoulder. Sam was wide-eyed but silent, knowing better than to talk on a hunt until John said so. Dean looked between the two and smiled hesitantly, followed John over to the deer, helped him skin it, cooked it for Sam for the next week while John was away, tracking a monster to its lair.

Business as usual for them.

But Sam wouldn’t eat it. He didn’t blame Dean. Dean had hesitantly asked one night if Sam was scared of him now, and Sam said no with little-brother honesty. But Dean understood a few months later, when John thought he had maybe tracked down a werewolf and was running after it in the underbrush. John yelled, “Keep him in your sights, Dean!” and plowed through the trees. Dean looked down at Sam and saw Sam staring at their father’s retreating back with a look close to betrayal on his young face.

“Dad’s coming back, Sam,” Dean felt the need to say. “He always does.”

The words felt empty because they were. Sam hadn’t been worried about whether John came back and Dean knew it. From the silent way Sam warily watched as John cleaned the weapons that night, Dean worried that Sam was thinking too much, remembering too much about an old cabin and a deer.

When John was asleep, Dean crept by Sam’s bed and whispered in his ear, “I would never take you down, Sammy. I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

Fifteen years later, Dean has to remind himself of that promise. Sam gets on the bus and Dean drives away in the opposite direction, feeling like he’s ignoring his prime directive. But years of seeing that look of wary fear on his little brother’s face have hardened Dean’s determination.

John wanted to keep Sam in his sights. Dean had vowed to let Sam live.  



End file.
